“Yes he does. You all need to see what Lacy’s headed for if she doesn’t stop. This doesn’t end well. Your daughter’s in trouble. And him,” she said pointing at Joey. “He wants to protect his sister. But, Joey, you’re not helping her right now. Your sister’s already addicted. So, if you see her smoking, let your parents know. And if you see her with emotion cards, show your parents where she’s hiding them. Understand?”

Joey lowered his eyes. “Okay,” he said, though he didn’t think it was as bad as the principal was making it. Lacy wasn’t scraping her fingers raw. She’d gotten a new card at the start of October and had stayed happy for the whole month; she’d even helped spiderweb the bushes for Halloween.

“Is that everything?” Joey’s father asked.

“That’s all for now. She can come back on the fifteenth.” His parents rose and Joey walked with them to the door. “Mr. and Mrs. Thompson,” Ms. Jones said, “I know I sound cold, but I’m just trying to look out for all our children. Their families don’t want their kids getting involved in what your daughter’s got herself mixed up with. But I understand what you’re going through. I had a daughter, too, same age as yours. She was also a sweet girl. All I can say is, I hope you have more luck than I did.”

On the nights when his parents took Lacy to the detox sessions, Joey lay in the room alone, trying to separate real memories from the programmed ones. Lacy and him in the backyard digging for bugs and collecting them in a mason jar? Programmed. Lacy scraping her knee while they were taking turns with the skateboard? Real. Lacy hugging him that past summer, holding him close and telling him she loved him?

The rehab program sent Lacy home with sterilized week-long cards: pale-colored chips with no scrapable material. That first night she lay in bed and didn’t talk about memories, just the sanitized topics programmed on each card. Thanksgiving is coming soon, that’ll be exciting. Have you heard about that poodle who went parachuting? The video has over eighty million hits.

“She doesn’t sound like Lacy anymore,” his mother complained. Couldn’t they just get her an emotion card with a hundred percent honesty and sobriety? But that wasn’t possible yet, the detox center told them. Sometimes it took months for children to adjust to sterilized cards. Lacy might not seem like herself, but they had to remember this was part of the detox process. She needed time to get the resins out of her. Until then, there were weekly cleaning sessions and installable downloads to help Lacy with her homework. It would all be fine if she’d just stick to the program.